


Turn the Page

by OrilliaOrange



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-11
Updated: 2015-12-11
Packaged: 2018-05-06 02:40:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5399813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrilliaOrange/pseuds/OrilliaOrange
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Is this a kissing book?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Turn the Page

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Twilighthawke](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twilighthawke/gifts).



“Though there was nothing before her but the endless sand dunes stretching out to the horizon, the Knight-Captain struggled to her feet and trudged onwards.”

 

Varric struggles to understand what he’s hearing. He’s tired and sore all over, and that takes up most of his immediate thoughts.

 

It sounds like the Seeker’s voice, he thinks, before sleep takes him again.

 

***

 

“His face is rough beneath her palms, scarred and stubbled, and well loved. It had taken her so long to realize that she loved him, that he was more than an apostate- Inquisitor!”  
  


The Seeker’s voice again, and a lower rumble. Grouchy. Cassandra’s voice sounds strange.

 

Varric’s mouth is dry and hot, and his head hurts. He feels gritty all over and the soreness from before is a full blown ache.

 

“Hnk,” he grunts out.

 

Trying to prop himself up is hard. His back erupts in a riot of pain, his head swims, and Varric wonders if he’s going to be sick. Probably, is his opinion.

 

Cool hands slide around his shoulders, and Varric is dimly aware he’s shirtless. Cassandra pulls him into a sitting position, and the nausea abates. She presses a cold glass into his hand, and Varric can’t remember feeling so happy for a simple sip of water.

 

“Seeker?”

 

She bustles around his room, which is a little confusing because the last thing he remembers is being in the Hinterlands. Again.

 

“I am glad you are feeling well,” Cassandra says.

 

She’s blushing and not looking him in the eyes, but the dull pulsing pain in his skull is enough to distract him.

 

Solas knocks on the door, and Cassandra takes the opportunity to leave, tucks something beneath her arm as she goes.

 

“It is good to see you well, master Tethras,” he says coolly.

  
  
Varric resigns himself to being poked and prodded, and forgets about why Cassandra was being strange.

 

***

 

Cassandra is pale and still, her brow furrowed. He’s seen her injured before, but this is different. This time they’d had to put her under, until the surgeon at Skyhold could see her. The journey back had been a nightmare. To see the Seeker, normally so vital, reduced to a quiet shape on a stretcher had been upsetting.

 

At least here with her lying in bed (an actual bed, he can’t believe she’d been sleeping on a bedroll in the forge), it’s not as awful.

 

Grouchy had brought a pile of books from the forge to the Seeker’s room by the infirmary. Mostly they’re Varric’s works, and he finds himself smiling at them. There’s a bookmark sticking out of one book. Not one of his, he notes, a little disappointed.

 

No accounting for taste.

 

Opening the book, Varric starts to read.

  
  
“His face is rough beneath her palms, scarred and stubbled, and well loved. It had taken her so long to realize that she loved him, that he was more than an apostate- Seeker what the hell are you reading?”

 

Cassandra doesn’t answer him.

 

“Where was I? He was more than an apostate. He was kind and brave, and bold. A man she could truly love, and as their lips met- Seeker are you _kidding_ me? A kissing book. _Maker_.”

 

Varric put the book down and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

 

_A quiet voice, speaking carefully as the cart jostled him._

_Aching, head pounding, heavy limbs, but soft words soothe, give him something to concentrate on._

 

Cassandra’s still asleep, but now she looks restful, and Varric can’t keep his eyes off her.

 

She’d read to him, when he’d been unconscious. Stayed by his side.

 

Shit.

 

The least he can do is return the favour. Even if her taste in literature is awful.

 

***

 

"Varric!"

 

"Seeker!"

 

Varric looks up, and Cassandra looks down, and they both look uncomfortable. At least, they do if her expression was anything like his. And it felt like that was likely.

 

"So-"

 

Cassandra blushes, and gestures at him to speak first.

 

"Ladies first, Seeker," Varric says, sweeping her a little bow.

 

She frowns as though wondering whether to take that as a jab.

 

"I-" she started to say.

 

Varric watches as she squares her shoulders, and falls into parade rest. It was endearing, really.

 

"You read to me, Solas says. While I was ill," Cassandra says.

 

"Thought I should return the favour," Varric says, with a slight smile.

 

The bloom of colour across her cheeks and nose is particularly lovely. It even tints her ears a soft rose.

 

"Thank you, Varric."

 

"I'd rather not make a habit of it, Seeker."

 

Her shoulders slump, and her smile slips.

 

"Of course not. Good afternoon, Varric."

 

Cassandra turns on her heel, and begins to walk away.

 

"Cassandra!" Varric catches hold of her hand.

 

She looks down at him with hurt eyes, mouth pressed into a thin line.

 

“That’s not what I meant, Seeker,” he says.

 

Cassandra looks down at him, face very carefully neutral.

 

"Read to me?" Varric asks. "Some time when I'm actually awake to appreciate it?"

 

Cassandra twines her fingers around his. A small smile teases at the corners of her mouth.

 

"Next you will be asking me to do the voices, as well."

 

"Well you can't half ass it, Seeker."

 

They stand smiling at one another, fingers intertwined, until one of Cullen’s messengers bumps into Cassandra’s shoulders.

 

His eyes widen, mouth falling open into a perfect O of shock and dismay.

 

“My lady, master Tethras I am- going the other way, yes. I uh-”

 

“It is perfectly alright, Varric and I were…” Cassandra trails off, cheeks going red as she shot a glance at Varric.

 

“Canoodling,” Varric says.

 

Cassandra swats his shoulder.

 

The messenger’s shoulders sag.

 

“My apologies I will just- I will just be going, then,” he stammers.

 

Cassandra and Varric watch him go, a little bemused.

 

“Did he just trip over his own feet?”

 

“I think he did. Poor bastard.”

 

Cassandra laughs, then covers her mouth.

 

“You are terrible,” she says.

 

“And you still like me. What does that say about you, Seeker?” Varric asks.

 

“I have awful taste in men and books,” Cassandra says.

 

Varric claps his free hand to his chest, and looks up at her with a mournful expression and laughing eyes.

 

“I’m hurt, Seeker.”

 

“Shall I kiss it better?”

 

Cassandra leans in, and brushes a swift kiss against Varric’s cheek.

 

“You missed a spot,” Varric says, gesturing towards his mouth.

 

Cassandra’s lips met his, gently.

 

Varric rose up on the balls of his feet, one hand curling around the back of Cassandra’s neck. Her lips parted on a sigh, one that had his heart tripping in his chest.

 

"I didn't believe Jim when he said you two were... canoodling," Cullen says. "Dorian will be disappointed."

 

Cassandra yelps, and nearly overbalances.

 

“We were doing no such- what do you mean Dorian will be disappointed?” she demands.

 

Cullen leans against the stone, looking far too pleased with himself for Cassandra’s liking.

 

“He had bet fifteen royals that it would take you two to Satinalia to kiss,” he says. “Of course, since he bet against me…”

 

“I think we deserve a cut of that, Curly,” Varric says.

 

Cullen laughs, and grins at Varric. “Ten percent.”

 

“Hardly fair, considering we did all the hard work.”

 

Cassandra snorts.

 

“Five royals, then.”

 

"Seven, and you have a deal," Varric says.

 

"Six."

 

"Alright Curly, deal."

 

They shake hands, and Cullen strides towards his office, whistling.

 

Cassandra grimaces down at Varric.

 

"I cannot believe that they were betting or that you just-" she sputters, words building up behind her teeth.

 

Varric grins unrepentantly up at her.

 

"That new DuMontrose book is out at the end of the month. Consider this an investment, Seeker."

 

Cassandra's cheeks tint red.

 

"Varric that book's already been banned in three city states!"

 

He smirks, and kisses her knuckles.

 

“Then we’ll just have to read it in private, won’t we?”

 

“Incorrigible,” Cassandra says fondly.

**Author's Note:**

> From a prompt NovemberOcean/Twilighthawke sent me over on tumblr!


End file.
